


One New Message

by Dangerousnotbroken



Series: The Dick Pic 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangerousnotbroken/pseuds/Dangerousnotbroken
Summary: In which Dean finally gets around to doing the thing he's been planning to do for a very, very long time.





	One New Message

**Author's Note:**

> I've been promising you guy more timestamps for this series for quite a while and I have no intention of breaking that promise! Of course I also plan on taunting you mercilessly with the promise of said timestamp and I make no guarantees as to when they'll be released, but...that's besides the point.
> 
> All the love to KreweofImp for beta-reading this tooth-rotting fluff and also coming up with the name for the thing and also just for being an amazing human.

Dean’s procrastinating.

It feels so weird to be procrastinating on something he’s been excited about for months on end, but that’s definitely what he’s doing. There is literally nothing standing in his way at this point, so he can’t pretend like he’s being prevented from acting. There’s no valid reason _not_ to do The Thing he’s been anticipating, so he can’t pretend like he’s being cautious and practical. And there’s not a single cell in his being that doesn’t want to do this Thing, so he can’t pretend he’s got doubts. He’s pretty sure he knows how it’s going to go, too. He wouldn’t even be considering it if he didn’t have some sort of assurance that it was worth the effort. It’s just this weird, dumb function in his brain that tells him that despite all this, there’s also no reason that he has to do The Thing right this minute, or today, or even this week, and for some reason he can’t quite parse, that knowledge has been winning out for a while now.

Too long, if he’s being honest.

He puts the ring box back in the far corner of his sock drawer, where Cas will never have a reason to even consider looking, and closes the drawer softly. Not today, but soon.

There’s this trend these days, if the internet is to be believed, of increasingly elaborate marriage proposals. People hire sky-writers. Messages show up on the jumbo-tron at sporting events. There are elaborate scavenger hunts that take a person’s intended through a tour of milestones in their relationship, first dates and memorable moments and other locales that basically amount to inside jokes, culminating in pomp and fanfare and confetti. It’s outlandish. Dean’s not into that, and he’s pretty sure Cas isn’t either. Hell, if he tried to take Cas to a baseball game his eyes would probably roll so far back in his head he’d look like something out of the Exorcist. Talk about a mood killer. Dean tried that exactly once, and Cas was a good sport, asking questions about how the game works and making a show of interest, but it was obvious he wasn’t enjoying himself and Dean promised not to drag him to any more games, so if Dean even suggested they head to the stadium, he’d be suspicious. Jumbo-tron is totally out. But like, he never really thought he’d be the kind of guy who just pulled a ring box out of his pocket, got down on one knee and popped the question. It’s so hyper-traditional and bland, and their relationship has been anything but, so it feels wrong. So maybe it’s not procrastination after all. Maybe it’s the method he’s struggling with.

It’s going to take some thought.

He could ask Sam for ideas. That kid is so disgustingly romantic sometimes it makes Dean want to puke rainbows. The only thing that stopped him from proposing to Jess in an over-the-top show of romanticism and grossness is Jess’ assertion that she hates that kind of stuff, so he grudgingly popped the question in a fancy French restaurant. During dessert, of course. With Champagne. And roses. He stopped just short of hiring a string quartet to serenade them.

Cas would hate every second of that. He’d hate the stuffiness of a restaurant like that, even if he loved every morsel of the food. He’d hate the fact that it was so public. Despite his eager willingness to get naked and fuck around on camera, Cas is a remarkably private person, and anything to do with his personal life is pretty closely guarded. No one he works with has ever been to their home since Dean moved in, and Cas has informed him that that isn’t a new thing. He likes it that way. Likes keeping that part of himself out of his work, as much as he loves the job. And he’s not exactly a fan of classical music, so the string quartet would be way out of place.

Dean asks Sam anyway.

They’re having beers at Sam’s place, shooting the breeze and playing Call of Duty while Jess is out with a couple of her friends. Dean’s spent a good amount of time making sure he’s winning, ‘cause the last thing he wants is for Sam to think he’s changing the subject to avoid getting his ass kicked in another round of the game. When he notices that Sam has finished his beer, he offers to grab refills, shaking off the tension as he retreats to the kitchen. He returns with two more beers, but instead of picking his controller back up, he finally broaches the subject.

“So I’m gonna ask Cas to marry me.”

Sam nearly drops his beer. “ _Finally,”_ he bleats effusively. “I thought you’d never get around to it. Jesus Dean, that’s awesome!”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Dean grouses. “We’ve only been together for what, like a year?”

“And you’ve been fucking gone on him for the entire time. I see the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s why I’m askin’.” Dean’s trying to be annoyed, but honestly he’s just too excited about the prospect of marrying Cas to be too wrapped up in it.

“Ahhh this is so fantastic!” Sam exclaims.  “Jody told me at our wedding she’d be totally excited to officiate for you if you ever got around to popping the question. Do you have a ring yet? When do you think you’ll do it, like a spring wedding maybe?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Simmer down, Samsquatch. I gotta actually ask him before any of that shit even matters. Don’t go booking a venue for us quite yet.”

“Quit raining on my Pride Parade,” Sam grumbles, but he’s still grinning.

“Anyway,” Dean continues, ignoring the cartoonishly big smile on his brother’s face, “I’m mentioning this ‘cause I _do_ have a ring but I’m kinda stalled out on how to actually go about it. It’s kind of a big question. I feel like it matters how I ask.”

Sam pauses, thoughtful. “That’s true. I see what you’re getting at. Do you have any ideas?”

“I know what I _don’t_ want,” Dean offers. “Doesn’t narrow it down much though. Cas wouldn’t want something big and over the top, and I don’t want to do something really public or whatever, but that’s about all I’ve got. I’ve had the ring since before we actually even moved in together. Feels like I’m stalling but I’m not. I just…don’t know how I wanna do it.”

“That’s fair,” Sam agrees. “Look, all that really matters is that you make each other happy. How you propose doesn’t matter so much as the fact that you ask and he says yes. But if you’re looking for my advice…”

“You know I am, bitch,” Dean teases.

“Then I’d tell you that you should make it personal. Something that matters to the two of you. I proposed to Jess at the restaurant where we celebrated our first anniversary, with a bottle of the same champagne we were drinking the first time I told her I loved her. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. It just has to be meaningful.”

“So you don’t have any grand ideas to share?”

“Afraid not. You come up with an idea you like and I can help you tweak the details, but this has to come from you, Dean.” Sam smiles softly.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

~*~

Dean thinks on it for another couple of days, but he doesn’t come up with any brilliant ideas. How is he supposed to plan a meaningful proposal? He already knows Cas is going to say yes. They’ve talked about it. This won’t even be a big surprise or anything, it’s just a formality, but like, nothing he can come up with seems to fit the bill at all. He’s not a super romantic type of guy usually and Cas really isn’t either. Hell, the first time they professed their feelings for each other it was in the afterglow of some really vigorous sex and it came out as _I fuckin’ love you_ , so like, not exactly something out of a romance novel. And he’d take Cas back to the place they met if he could because the idea of the relationship coming full circle makes sense, except the first time they met face to face was in Dean’s old apartment and he can’t imagine asking the new residents to let them in just for that without having the cops called on him, probably. Plus, they actually met over text message when Cas sent a fucking dick pic to the wrong person. He can’t just text Cas a picture of the ring and go from there. That’s insane.

Or.

Is it?

Dean digs the box out of his sock drawer and ponders the ring for long minutes. It’s the perfect ring, really. It’s all white gold with a vine pattern carved into it, reminiscent of Cas’ tattoos, and there’s a few tiny red stones, rubies or garnets or something, strategically placed to look like they’re growing out from among the engraved leaves. It will look gorgeous on Cas’ hand. He knew it was the one the second he saw it.

Dean snaps fourteen pictures of the ring before he gets one that looks the way he wants it to.

Holding his breath, he hits send.

~*~

Cas’ phone buzzes, and he’s got a new picture message from Dean. That’s always exciting. Dean’s just out running errands so it’s not like Cas won’t see him in person very shortly, but he still loves it when Dean sends him pictures. His boyfriend is so gorgeous Cas will never tire of looking at him. He opens the picture with a small smile on his lips.

It’s not a picture of Dean.

There’s a small black velvet box sitting on their dresser, and inside it is a ring. Light catches on tiny red stones scattered across the band, and he knows instantly that it was selected for the resemblance it bears to his tattoos, the ones that led Dean to recognize him right away the first time they spoke. He can’t take his eyes off the ring, can barely allow himself to consider the connotations of such a piece of jewelry. It takes several minutes of staring before he notices the caption at the bottom.

_Like what you see?_

**_Does this mean what I think it means?_ **

_That depends. You gonna say yes?_

**_Dean Winchester, get that perfect ass home right this minute and put that ring on my finger or so help me god. How’s that for an answer._ **

_I fucking love you, Cas._

**_I fucking love you too, Dean. Now get back here so I can kiss you._ **


End file.
